Can someone please invite me on a long trip to France until Toby turns four?
I can't spend another day skipping smilingly around the house like an imbecilic Pollyanna gently coaxing him to perform the simplest task.
If I don't help him put on his Thomas underwear he gets frustrated. If I do help him he unleashes a rabid burst of independence and takes them back off so he can do it over himself. Then I have to stand in silence while he thrashes around his bedroom yanking and tugging away while my hair grows down to the floor and I have to fight the urge to grab the waistband and jerk it right up to his eyeballs.
But I do something worse. I open my mouth and yell TOBY, just LET ME DO IT. And I can tell by the crestfallen look in his eyes that I have crushed him in the most shameful way because nothing would mean more than showing me that he is capable. That he can put on his clothes or make chocolate milk or push baby Charlie's stroller through the parking lot just like a big boy. Just like I do.
I look at his little buzzed head, face contorted in a wash of unabashed defeat, underwear elastic printed with the silhouette of a train slightly disheveled and twisted around his tummy. Look Toby, you DID it. Mommy didn't even have to help. You did it all by YOURSELF. I hug him and grab his stout shoulders in my hands. I am so proud of you buddy. What a big boy you are.
He looks at me and sniffs while wiping away sweaty tears. I hope he forgives me. I hope I show him how strong he is and how smart he is and how big he is.
That I am so proud of him sometimes that it hurts.
Maybe France can wait one more day.
Posts
5 weeks ago
Ah, I remember those days. Wait. Who am I kidding? I just had one yesterday.
ReplyDeleteRight there with ya, sister.
I am CRYING!!!! My boys are bigger and STILL do that. No, not with their underware PTL, but with small in life, kind of things. Come to think of it so does my hubby, so it looks like sweet girl, NO MATTER where you go and no matter how long you are gone, you come back to the SAME task!!~~Angela Garcia
ReplyDeleteI love this post! If there is something I can relate to, it is Thomas the Tank underwear...however, we call them "big boys" around here. :) I wish I could tell you that staying in France until he turns four would make life better, but, well, I have a four year old. France sounds wonderful at four as well. You and I both know it would take one day overseas before we would be begging to come back.
ReplyDeleteRaegan turns four tomorrow. Somehow I feel like I still might need that trip to France in the morning. I'll let you know how it goes.
ReplyDeletePrecious boy. Precious momma's heart!
ReplyDeleteOkay, so I'm not a mother yet, but I know one day, if God blesses us with a child, I'll be looking back at your blog, blessed by your experiences!
ReplyDeleteHave a great week, Andi!
This too shall pass......then they are teenagers.......
ReplyDeleteOh I loved this. Makes me wish my guys were 4 again (but only for a few minutes at a time!)
ReplyDeleteFrance can wait. They've got problems too.
Once when I was having one of those days my mom told me, "Honey, someday those boys will grow up...and go away." Promise? that's all I could give for a response...
I don't know how you do it - somehow, when you write, it takes me back to when my own children were that age. Of course, we had Star Wars underwear instead of Thomas. Also, Ethan always wore them backward because the big picture of Darth Vader had to be where he could see it. I think it also made Ethan feel more manly to have Darth Vader placed directly on top of his own "light saber".
ReplyDeleteOh I just love it.
ReplyDelete